


Weekend

by bittmanns (athenaeums)



Series: Coming Out [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anxiety, Closeted Character, Gay Male Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 13:57:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7441864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athenaeums/pseuds/bittmanns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They know I’m seeing someone,” is the first thing Jack can say when he gets a moment to stop. Bittle has only been in his apartment for five minutes and he can’t keep it in anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weekend

“They know I’m seeing someone,” is the first thing Jack can say when he gets a moment to stop. Bittle has only been in his apartment for five minutes and he can’t keep it in anymore. 

“Ok,” Bittle - to his credit - says slowly whilst eyeing Jack carefully. “Is that ok?”

Jack finally breathes out and tears his gaze away from his boyfriend. He finds himself tortured by the decisions he is making, that are directly affecting Bittle too. It’s such a basic thing, that his team should know he is seeing someone. Heck, that he’s in love with someone. Somehow it still feels like the heaviest burden he could ever be asked to carry, but when he glances back to Bittle, waiting for his answer with his head tilted just so, he feels so light. He takes Bittle’s hand and pulls him the couch, sitting next to him and preparing himself for how he is going to phrase this. 

“It would be ok, but they may have misunderstood the situation,” he tries to explain. But he doesn’t have to. 

With an edge of sadness to his tone, Bittle cracks a gentle smile and explains for him. “They think I’m a girl.” So Jack wraps his arms around Bittle’s middle and buries his face into his shoulder. It’s not the most comfortable position in practice but he may as well be laying on a bed of clouds for the all comfort he is getting from it. He murmurs into his shoulder, endless mantras,  _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Bits_  like if he says it enough, it will fix everything.

At some point Bittle lays them down on the couch and Jack curls himself around him, pressing tiny kisses into his neck. “They heard me on the phone to you and misheard your name,” he offers quietly. “I called you ‘Bits’ one time and all of a sudden I’m being asked about my girlfriend,  _Betsy.”_ It feels like a moment when he should offer something to apologise, but all he can do is squeeze him a little tighter where his arms ring the middle of Bittle’s slim waist. “I should have corrected them, I should have told them. But I couldn’t, I called you instead from the…” 

Jack peters off when he feels Bittle’s body shaking gently, quietly rumbling and trying not to be noticed. He thought he knew panic before but he’ll never shake the feeling when he thought he had made his boyfriend cry. It sends shockwaves through him, settling in his stomach like a dull ache until he looks up and sees the tears brimming at Bittle’s eyes connecting to a barely concealed smile. He’s laughing, Jack realises. The panic ebbs away as Bittle sneaks a hand up to wipe at his face.

“I’m so sorry, Jack,” Bittle says but he’s still laughing, “I can’t stop.”

“What’s so funny?” Jack tries but he can’t help being mildly offended and he thinks that Bittle could probably choose his moments a little better when he’s going to erupt into fits of laughter. 

“Betsy!” He cries, laughing loudly and pulling Jack’s arm a little tighter around his middle. “Oh gosh, my stomach hurts!”

Bittle’s laughter is infectious but Jack can’t rest without finishing this conversation. He knows he doesn’t have to feel guilty about this turn of events, but it’s been nagging at his brain since it happened and he knows it won’t go away until it’s addressed. As he looks down at Bittle’s flushed face, messy hair and glistening eyes he has a sudden flash image of texting his dad and his agent now to tell them everything, because he doesn’t know how he can keep him a secret any longer. But he’s broken from his reverie when Bittle squeaks out another bout of laughter, and Jack decides there’s nothing else for it. 

Grasping Bittle’s sides carefully, he shoves him central to the couch and lays along him before pressing his lips to his, hard, but with enough intent to let Bittle know he needs to stop. Bittle responds immediately and Jack vaguely acknowledges how long it has been since they had an opportunity to do this. He thanks all the gods and heavens that he has this day to be free and this day to love his boyfriend the way he deserves. When he finally pulls away, he leans back on his side, dragging Bittle’s leg with him to rest on his hip. He leans in close until their noses are barely touching and then whispers with his lips just a hair-breadth away from Bittle’s own. “What’s so funny?”

“Do you really not remember?” Bittle asks softly, rubbing his nose gently to Jack’s. When Jack shakes his head slowly in response, Bittle sighs with a smile. “Betsy was the oven in the Haus, right? You replaced her when she died?”

Jack remembers this like he’s just woken up from a dream and it weighs heavily on his mind, it must show on his face. “Honey, it’s ok,” Bittle reassures him, “It just tickled me, is all. I think Betsy would be pleased.”

He settles in Jack’s arms with a smile and a small tug on Jack’s hair. It’s what Jack has needed all week. He knows that he depends on Bitty to make him feel human and vulnerable, and he knows that it’s a lot for him to take on but when they’re together he can see their future, and he can see how this situation is everything but permanent. They  _are_  happy and one day the whole world will know about it. So it makes sense, as he presses a small kiss to Bittle’s cheek, that he should try to ruin all of it.

“I’m worried about you meeting the team,” Jack admits and it would take him by surprise if it hadn’t plagued his every thought since he had sat in the parking lot, nausea coming in waves and his heart sprinting to a finish line he had to hope was many miles and years away. He feels it like a stab through the heart when Bittle stiffens and straightens his leg out. It feels almost right though, definitely deserved, that Jack should suddenly feel so cold and alone. “They might hear your name and make the connection,” he soldiers on, needing this conversation to be over as quickly, but efficiently, as he can.

“So what do you want me to do?” Bittle asks carefully, monotonously. 

There is no solution that won’t hurt either of them. “ _Bitty_ ,” Jack tries but it doesn’t do anything. “ _Bits_.” They both sit up then, Bittle excusing himself to the bathroom. 

Jack has tortured himself in six different ways before Bittle comes back out rubbing the back of his neck and barely looking at him. He’s been listening to the voice that won’t shut up, telling him he’s a useless boyfriend, telling him to put Bitty back on a train right now because he deserves better than to be here. It’s only when Bittle  _finally_  looks up at him with the weakest of smiles that he can try to shout a little louder at himself not to give any of this up. He  _loves_  this boy, he knows he does. He loves his pies, the way he names his cookers, the way he’s the only person Jack knows that can pull off shorts that short, and how his are the only shorts Jack wants to be pulling off. He just needs to be a little braver, a little less paranoid and give Bittle more credit than he has been. It’s easier said than done but he knows out of the two loves in his life, he needs to make sure he can preserve what he has here, in the dark and quiet parts of his life, because out of both options this is the one that he hopes will be there when all the rest is gone.

“I’m sorry,” is all he can think to say, standing up and walking to where Bittle -  _Bitty_  - is awkwardly hovering by the bathroom door. “Bits, I’m so  _sorry_.” He walks a little closer and pulls Bittle to him, wrapping him in his arms then slowly running his hands down his back to rest in the back pockets of his jeans. 

“I’ve only been here for a half hour and I’ve already had too many apologies,” Bittle mumurs into his chest, finally -  _begrudgingly_  - tightening his arms around Jack’s back. “I know this is difficult for you, but it’s not great for me all the time either.”

Jack whispers  _I know, I know_  endlessly into his hair. “It’s your career, Jack, and I don’t want anything to jeopardise that but it would be nice to just once tell someone how much I care about you,” he sounds exasperated, Jack thinks.

“We need to start this day, again,” he suddenly demands. “How about we go and get something to eat?” 

Bitty groans in appreciation and agrees with a kiss to Jack’s chest. “Thank goodness, I haven’t eaten since I left.”

They end up in a restaurant not too far from Jack’s apartment - “ _I’m_ starving _, Jack, you can’t make me walk any further without sustenance!_ ” - and when the waitress barely blinks at Jack’s ‘ _table for two_ ’ request he has to wonder for the billionth time if it is necessary to keep this a secret. He’s almost positive that the look on his face and his eyes is enough to give it all away without a single word - he’s  _missed_  Bitty, he’s craved him and he’s needed him, and now he’s here in front of him. He knows it’s written all over him how badly he wants to lean across the table and lick the sauce from the corner of his mouth before kissing him the way the other couples in the restaurant are. 

“Zimmboni!” and so the idea falls flat on its face. Jack pales slightly but fixes his gaze on Bittle who suddenly looks delighted. “I had no idea you like this restaurant!” Tater exclaims as he nears the table and slaps his hand so hard on Jack’s back that he’s almost sure he could spit his food up. 

“First time I’ve been here, actually,” he answers politely, as Bittle is just staring with wide eyes and excitement oozing from every part of him. There’s an awkward pause where he’s clearly waiting for an introduction, but the ghost of their earlier conversation creeps up and Jack finds the words stuck in the bottom of his stomach where he’s keeping his dread and fear. 

“Hi there, I’m Eric! Jack’s friend from Samwell!” Bittle extends his arm to shake Tater’s hand, but Jack doesn’t miss how Tater raises an eyebrow in interest. 

“Eric Bittle?” He asks, voice still so loud. Jack thinks it might be the loudest thing he’s ever heard in this quiet, tiny restaurant. “I know all Zimmboni’s old teammates. Have to make sure I’m better!” Tater jokes, Bittle laughs politely, and Jack tries to get the ground to open up beneath him. “Alexei Mashkov! Happy to meet you! But I will leave you, my friends is waiting. See you tomorrow, Zimmermann.”

Jack offers a broken smile and a tiny wave and just breathes for a second. “Jack?” Bittle asks, starting to push his hand over the table towards Jack’s but retracting halfway across. “I didn’t think I’d get to actually talk to any of them, that was incredible! The guys at the Haus are going to be so jealous, wait ‘til I tell them! Oh my gosh, you should bring him to one of our games - wait, you will make it to a game soon won’t you? You should definitely bring some jerseys with…”

“ _Bits_ ,” Jack smiles affectionately, touching Bittle’s ankle with the side of his foot under the table. Bittle smiles back knowingly and takes a sip of his water. He knows Bittle knows. He knows that his compassionate, kind and caring boyfriend is worrying his gorgeous self over the tiny attack brimming at Jack’s edges the minute Tater arrived. Jack can’t do much to show how grateful he is, but he can let Bittle know he’s there, that he’s grounded and he’s present. It’s the best he can offer. “I’ll see if I organise some tickets some time.”

“Well there have to be some perks to knowing an NHL player,” Bittle smiles.

\---

Jack emerges from the bedroom to the smell of coffee from the machine and gently warming pastry in the oven. Bittle is sat cross-legged on the end of the couch, staring out the window at the city below, hugging his own mug of coffee to his chest. Jack knows he could get used to this. “Oh, honey, you’re awake,” Bitty smiles, taking a sip. Jack moves to perch behind him, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his neck.

“Just about,” he murmurs into Bittle’s hairline. “Is that my shirt?”

“I didn’t bring an apron and honestly, Jack, that kitchen is just begging to be used properly. So, sorry, but you have laundry facilities and I’m not here long enough to dirty my own clothes.” Bittle explains, matter-of-factly and like he’s ready to fight, but Jack just laughs and wraps his arms around Bitty’s shoulders, tugging him back to his chest.

“It’s ok, Bits, you look cute.” Jack smirks, waiting for it.

“Cute!” Bittle exclaims. “I’ll show you cute, mister!” He turns in Jack’s hold, careful to place his mug on the coffee table, and shoves him down on the couch to tickle at his sides.

“Oh no! How could I be so wrong?” Jack laughs, letting Bittle do as he pleases. “You’re positively ferocious!”

The timer goes off and Bittle jumps off of him with a grin to turn the oven off. He pulls out a pie that is far too big for Jack to eat alone and sets it on the side to cool, before leaning back against the counter and observing Jack.

Jack grabs his camera from the coffee table and points it at Bitty who doesn’t pose, just stays where he is gently studying his boyfriend. “What’s up?” He asks as he pulls the camera to his face.

“Nothing,” Bittle smiles softly, tilting his head slightly. Jack snaps a couple of pictures and checks them. “It’s real sweet that you keep my silly notes.”

Jack looks up at Bitty, then sees where he is looking – a fridge lovingly adorned with post-its of all different colours and messages varying in degrees of love and support. He can feel the slight blush working its way up his face, settling under his eyes before he laughs it off. It’s a hard secret to keep, loving someone. When all you want to do is shout from the highest point to everyone below that you have someone amazing and god, you need to share that, it becomes difficult to keep it _all_ locked away. Jack frames Bitty in his kitchen, fitting in the same shot with the notes on the fridge and the stupid bunny ornament he keeps on the back of his counter, and he knows that hiding all of this isn’t an option.

He recalls mumbling excuses about ‘B’ being an overly affectionate fan when Shitty stays over and asks about the ever-growing collection. He learns to laugh off questions from his teammates about all the pie he brings in because he has a fridge full and he _can’t keep up_. He adapts to having open conversations with Bittle on the phone, in front of people, without saying his name. Jack can feel everything building to a moment, one point in his timeline, that starts with him and ends with the image he finds himself sneakily capturing in his kitchen. That moment isn’t today, but he knows it’s coming.

He lifts himself from the couch, taking photos as he goes so he can treasure every single breath, blink and shadow, and moves over to where Bittle is still leaning. Jack puts the camera down next to him and draws him into a long kiss, resting a hand on his lower back and gently sliding down. “What shall I tell the team when they ask me to compliment Betsy on her pie?” He murmurs between kisses.

“You can tell them that you traded her for a newer model,” Bittle chuckles lightly, pushing gently at Jack’s chest. “It’s not a total lie.”

“My teammates think I’m dating a broken oven,” Jack deadpans and delights in the creases that form on Bittle’s face when he laughs loud and clear.

“They won’t one day,” Bittle reassures him. “One day, we’ll be able to tell everyone and no one will even blink at us.”

At the thought, Jack feels the room spin around where he is stood with Bittle, only the ‘we’ and ‘us’ keeping them safe while everything else is speeding out of control. He knows he should feel dizzy, and he should be taking deep breaths, but finally he knows what this is. It’s the rush of the moment, and he knows it’s about to smack him in the face – he needs to make sure he’s ready. “One day soon,” Jack promises.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a Tumblr where I post this stuff too, as well as other Jack/Bitty nonsense - URL is bittmanns if you're interested!


End file.
